


Have Me If You Want Me

by Deuterosis



Category: World Trigger (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Abortion, Depression, F/M, Foreplay, Gentle Sex, International Fanworks Day 2021, Nymphomania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deuterosis/pseuds/Deuterosis
Summary: “Distress about a pattern of repeated sexual relationships involving a succession of lovers who are experienced by the individual only as things to be used.”
Relationships: Katori Youko/Miura Yuuta
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

"I'm going out. Won't be back for a while." 

"Going where, sweetheart?"

"Just for a walk. Get some air."

"All right, then. Be safe."

"Sure."

It seemed like a no-brainer, that an official agent of Border would be safest of all wandering about town aimlessly. After all, they were both armed and trained.

But Katori had left her Trigger in her room, on her desk. Most of the time agents would, of course, carry them around. Because you never know... You just never know. Feeling the suddenness of the first Large-Scale Invasion directly and on your person, you might feel much more strongly that _you just never know_.

But thanks to the nature of Radar, even the inactive Trigger would tell HQ where you were at all times. _If_ you had it on you.

Today Katori didn't want that. She should have a right as a teenager in a war-scarred city to go off as she pleased and go throw rocks in a meadow, or something equally Never What People Assume without somebody knowing Where. Asserting her right to have her own separate existence outside her job and outside the people who would like to know generally where she was just out of principle of caring concern.

There are a few nice, silent places in walking distance of her house. Even in a city there were pockets of Nature's own settlements, and Mikado let stand large copses of trees near the mountains, like miniature preserves. If you were lucky, you could see Nature inside that Nature. You know, like a deer or something.

She walked right into one of these copses, slipping through and under foliage and the tickle thereof, peeking out through the trees at intervals like the "forest" was hers and she its fairy guardian. Just like the old days. There were backsides of buildings evenly spaced within the trunk frames, near and far. Dropping the old game, she emerged to fold herself against one over a slope, where you could see the city yawn into the distance.

The photographic sterility of the view gave the air running through her lungs its own level of chill, rolling unpleasantly against the back of her heart. She would sometimes get sick of life and people, go off on a feeling, and then realize, being completely alone made her feel

so very

very

 _lonely_.

The empty area just sat around her, all clear air and bright colors in the sun. It was hers, insofar as there were very few people around, their voices distant. She thought she wanted it, needed it, but in the end it was just a bigger knife in her gut.

 _I should go back._ To noise and bustle and people. To the possibility of being squashed by Neighbors. When you had a Trigger, when you had Bail Out, it just didn't feel quite so terrible to contemplate.

"Yep, I _thought_ I saw her passing by here."

Then around the corner came the source of the voices; a small group of what she was quite sure were Border trainees, all boys. They looked familiar, but she couldn't place their faces, blurred with other ones -- much less their names, about which she had no clue.

They nearly encircled her with every presumption in the world, having been given reasons to presume it.

"So, Katori. Are you feeling lonely again?"

_Well, yeah._

"Good thing we happened to be here, huh?"

"C'mon, put on your Trigger and let's play. Good to have a change of scenery."

Katori began to tell them to fuck off; that you never just come up and _ask_ , she hands it out as she pleases. But that's the kind of thing only an upper-B-Rank agent _with her Trigger on her person_ can say.

Instead, once this realization hit her, she hesitated.

The lads took the normally-snide Katori's silence with confusion, then curiosity. "Hm? What's the matter? Don't you have it?"

She shouldn't have shown weakness; that's how she'd kick herself for this later, but in the moment it felt clear that throwing sass and walking away would not have worked. They might test that bluff, or grab her arm to "convince" her. Then they would all be at Square Here.

"So, you don't even have your Trigger with you? Well, what should we do, then?"

The false play in the question ran along her back like reptilian ridges. Would they really do that? Trainees, harassing an _unarmed_ outnumbered B-Rank? Not everyone joined Border for the most righteous reasons, but there were some prohibitions on being absolute dirt.

 _They're probably just trying to scare me to get _some_ fun. Once they have a laugh about it, they'll leave._ But the pack wasn't leaving quick enough, and they were too close. They were already used to Slutty Katori who doesn't mind doing _anything_. She'd be lucky if they just stopped with putting their hands all over her real body.

"G-go away."

"Are you sure? _We_ have our Trion bodies. It's not like you'd get pregnant."

Interrupting all this, a sound clattered in the copse. Everyone looked up.

The space between the trees seemed empty, but Katori could swear there was a shadow or a presence that was new. Now the five seemed nervous, much more intimidated by the source of the noise than the B-Rank prodigy they'd closed in.

"Uh... I hope that's not a wolf."

"There _are_ no wolves around here."

"Do you want to risk it?"

"We have Triggers, you idiots." But he was looking down at Katori.

Then two of them stepped aside, and with her eyes on the lot of them and partly on the forest, she bolted.

* * *

A wolf. Please. Those guys told themselves what they wanted to hear.

It sounded to Katori a lot more like someone throwing trash, loud enough for it to be heard. Maybe a strong man, or a woman, who happened to be walking by and saw them. Those punks weren't suddenly trying to protect her from "a wolf". They were trying to look less bad to this interloper.

 _Why'd you just warn them, though? Why didn't you come out and give them what-for? Too _cool_ for that?_ Was she really a big enough deal to intervene for, but not enough to go too far out of whoever's way? Not even speaking or shouting or chasing the boys off. What would this mystery person have done if they'd all grabbed her and ran away?

Katori rolled over and over in the daylight, tired of the questions but still plagued by them.

Finally she slid out of her bed, explained her leaving by saying she had to meet a friend, and left.

She could have told her family what happened yesterday. They wouldn't be angry at her. She could have told her squad. But venting to any of them wouldn't soothe her the way she wanted to be soothed. She didn't want to hear their pity, their worry, their kind words, or their harsh honest ones.

Right now she just wanted a yes-man.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'll get it."

He had no idea whom to expect on the other side of the door -- but even so, this was not it.

"Yoko??"

"You got a problem with that?"

"W-why would I?"

Behind him, "Who is it, Yuta?"

"It's Yoko."

She leaned down and poked her face past his side, to his surprise and fluster. "I'm taking him on official business, all right?"

Her answer from the house was "No one said you couldn't."

"Well... Fine."

After changing from house clothes and grabbing his Trigger, Yuta followed his captain. Yoko was lying, of course. If she wanted him on business, she would have just called, or asked Hana to get him. But they _were_ headed towards Border HQ....

...except they detoured, hovering near the edge of the Forbidden Zone, and soon wound up in one of its empty houses.

The place was only slightly musty, perhaps since the area as a whole got disturbed regularly and this specific house wasn't closed up. Yoko continued to march, unwavering, as if she'd been here before, until they reached a bedroom and she stopped. They stood in the middle together in silence, Yoko looking up at him, almost bored.

"Um... What's going on, Yoko?"

"Haven't you figured it out? We're a boy and a girl, alone in an empty house."

Maybe so, but Yoko propositioning _him_ did not make sense.

When he worked through the initial confusion and suddenness, the very thought that this might actually be imminent quickly flustered him. "N-no, we shouldn't--"

"What?! Don't you dare say No." She grabbed him by the sweater collar from down below and yanked him to her level. "What guy turns down sex with the girl he has an obvious crush on?"

Her grip stayed tight as she waited for his answer. If he just stood back up, would she dangle from his neck?

"Is- Is that what you really want?"

"Am I here of my own free will?"

He really couldn't argue with that. Yoko released him so she could approach the bed, throw the comforter and accompanying sheet aside. She shed all but everything she had on with quickness and ease, like this was just a job, and threw them one by one over the headboard and posts for future fast retrieval. Immobile, he watched her as if this were a dream or a practical joke, even as the bed creaked.

What was further not making sense was the way she lay down and insisted he be on top. Yoko seemed like the kind of girl who would want to take charge during sex, screw being passive, especially for a melvin like him. He was ready for that; anything she wants. Almost looking forward to it. So when she opened her legs and said, "Go on, we both know what you want to do," he _didn't_ know.

 _I could run._ But she'll only be pissed later. Indeed, Yoko brought him here certain that he'd take her up without question. There must be a reason why she was demanding _this_ of him.

So he drew closer like a knave at the Red Queen's court, terrified of losing his head. The first thing that came to mind was leaning down - far, far down - and kissing her. _Does she want that?_

Yoko's fingers drummed impatiently.

"Um," he stammered, realities sinking in. "I don't have a--"

"Doesn't matter. I'm not about to ovulate or anything."

"...Okay."

Finally he leaned over her, like a prince over prone, sleeping Snow White, in poses only. He'd decided on first touching her neck, tracing it with light, dry kisses. Following the hidden bones of her shoulder and arm, leaving a peck on the back of her limp hand. He would have liked to be romantic, but that would be the last thing Yoko would want, at least from him. Basic tenderness would have to do.

Trouble was, despite her request she seemed to have no interest at all in what he was doing. As a young man in Japan, you learn someone is supposed to be as unaggressive during sex as possible, and preferably the woman, but he certainly didn't prefer that. This was Yoko, and in any case, she looked _bored_. He didn't want her to be _bored._

Just at least giving commands. That would also help since, knowing Yoko, she had probably had sex at least a dozen times, while in his case it was exactly zero times before now. All he could do was guess and investigate and hope she wasn't getting too impatient with his clumsiness.

And the trouble didn't even end with that; because of this situation, its figurative sterility, even with living, breathing, naked Yoko letting him touch her, his own body wasn't feeling much of a stir. It was almost like he was a doctor giving her a check-up, gently searching for pain spots. Too awkward and stilted, so he had to think of something else to kickstart his side.

Yoko, of course. He thought of her getting annoyed at his dick's lack of enthusiasm, forcing him onto the bed and taking that matter into her own hands. The tickle of her hair on his bare thighs and stomach, her head hiding her work. Fortunately that was all it took to remind his other head that right, yes, we feel Things for this girl, and the blood began to flow.

Now that the switch was flipped, he could follow his own suggestions. For instance, even if he wasn't sure what _she_ would like, he could show her what he already did.

"Your real boobs are cute."

"Yeah, yeah. That's not what I'm going for."

 _But what about what you have??_ Sure, large chests are popular, and he could see her feeling inadequate against someone like, say, Kumagai from Nasu Squad, but really! Guys who can't appreciate Yoko's real body don't deserve her.

 _Nothing inadequate about _this_ ,_ he thought, taking this golden chance to nuzzle her, hold her in his lap facing each other, assuming now would be the only chance he'd ever get. Her legs sprawled over his, and she still seemed... so distant, like this wasn't really about what she wanted to do.

He had to stop and lift her chin, looking into her eyes. "Yoko, are you _really_ sure?"

She bared her teeth in a second.

"Fuck off with that checking shit."

"Y-yes, ma'am."

"Trust me, I wouldn't bring _you_ here if I wasn't sure."

It stung, of course, but the bottom line was clear. He wasn't dreaming this up. And more importantly, if she didn't like what he did, he could trust her, as ever, to complain.

So in deference to the Red Queen, he resumed his touches, trying to find a reaction. Rechecking the same spots more carefully. Trying to make it a tease. He moved away from Yoko's dry folds down her leg, and maybe it was this or the kisses on her collarbone, but he heard a relaxed slip of breath near his ear. A small victory.

"Okay, so you're a little sensitive here?"

"Maybe." As noncommittal as ever, but familiarly sour, like - maybe - she was mad at her body for being a little happy.

With this pinprick in the dam, things finally began to flow. He searched her until she couldn't help but wriggle, and he felt happiness slip out of her in a heavy drip that flattened over his fingers. Spread over her now-yielding ridges, it provoked an even better orchestra of little sounds, getting ever and ever more complex.

Now his erection was starting to ache from being restrained. The timing, at least, seemed right. He set her back over the bed, drinking in the ruddy flush over her skin, and she settled into the sheet, finally looking relaxed.

He had his pants open and his prisoner loose in scant seconds. You wouldn't know it because he still took his time with what came next, trying to savor this first entry, the only one there would ever be. But the problem now was the way Yoko winced at just the start of the tip. The way she clenched her fists and shut her eyes and held herself stiff, as if putting on a brave face for something she knew she had to bear. Even though he knew she wasn't---

"Yoko, are you... Is this the first time in your real body?"

"It doesn't matter. Just go for it."

"No, it matters a _lot_. Let me see if I can stretch you out a bit first."

She peeled an eyelid open, and slowly let the tension go. "All right, fine."

All the confidence he'd been building up plummeted to the ground, from everything still not being as he'd expected.

"What are you waiting for?" she demanded, moving for the first time since she lay down, propping up her torso.

"I'm thinking...." She did seem pretty wet already, but then it wasn't like his finger was a good meter for his dick.

Part of what he was thinking about was this new context, where his touching her, taking her, was actually also special on some level to Yoko as well. The hesitation had leapt right back into him, tugging on his shoulders. _Don't do this. Leave._ It warred with her insistence in bringing him here, in brushing off that hesitation each time he showed it. Whatever the reason, she really did want him to deflower her in the way that mattered most.

 _Be honored by it,_ he decided to tell himself.

Back to foreplay. About three might work. He started with just the one, doing the same sorts of searches on her insides, attending the outs with his other hand. Then, replaced the wet one with a dry. Yoko looked like she almost wanted to complain about the time and trouble he was taking, but something was stopping her.

All he had to go on was the texture of her sounds. When he used both, it sounded heavy, a bit much; he tested her diameter until the weight lifted. The next one, on its own, didn't sound like much. Three together was a different story -- but by then, the liquid he had on him had roughly doubled, and they eased in well together. He used them the way he'd planned to use his dick, in a bit, out a bit, further a bit....

He could only hope this would be plenty, especially since Yoko told him so. The soak on his fingers he transferred to his dick in pragmatic strokes -- just enough to cover himself -- and tried again to meet her parts with his. Her muscles tensed again, but not nearly so severely.

"Is it better?"

"Yeah, a lot."

"But not painless?"

She growled a sigh. "I don't care if it hurts."

"Well, I do."

"Isn't it _supposed_ to hurt?"

"It shouldn't have to. I just need to do a little more...."

After all, Yoko wasn't the only one who'd leaked a puddle onto the sheet. This is what his end of things was for. He tried to paint her carefully with his pointed brush, mixing their transparent colors, testing the blend a bit, and a bit, and a little bit more -- until there was no friction at all, not in her voice and not between them.

* * *

Yesterday he had truly gone out on business. Minor business, returning books at a library. Then he turned with every intention of heading to Border HQ next and saw Yoko, happening to walk past on her own. She was too far away to have noticed him, disappearing past the next building in seconds. Not running, just walking briskly.

"Uh, Yoko!" He was pretty sure she didn't hear him, since his voice didn't rise high enough for lack of prior warning it might need to. And she was yet further ahead, going up the nearby slope, by the time he started to run after her.

Up in the distance Yoko entered a forest. It wasn't much of a forest, really more of a large park or grove, but with her speed and litheness, she vanished into it as naturally as a deer; in fact, he already couldn't find her among the trees. He had to pick over the wilds and end up doubling back to catch up to her specter.

The coincidence of seeing her felt like a chance he was meant to take, to ask if he could go with her, wherever she was going, and, he guessed, talk about random things. Border-related, maybe. It wouldn't even have been a date; he figured she'd not want that. But just to ask if he might tag along, if she'd be willing to spend time together outside of the Squad.

She might say no to that too, but he just figured he'd at least ask.

Where this kind of boldness suddenly came from he had no idea, but it _was_ lucky it did. As his mind was starting the process of talking himself out of it, he heard a voice beating him to the question of spending time with Yoko. Voic _es_. Brusque and clear.

He peered out around the frames of the trees and saw a crowd. Five C-Ranks speaking to her, asking for sex.

His impulse was to leave, but his legs wouldn't move, since her reaction showed the nature of this proposition. First, she wasn't agreeing to it. Second, she wasn't telling them off, either.

Yoko had a mask she could put on, a similar one to Hana's... though Hana wasn't exactly _cold_ so much as Switzerland. Yoko, though. Surrounded by people lower in rank, or whom she didn't respect, she could give them the most diminishing look. Right then, she wasn't donning that mask. She actually was starting to look as if these trainees could be a big threat to her.

The longer that went on, the more Yuta was sure she needed an intervention.

"So, you don't even have your Trigger with you? Well, what should we do, then?"

All that held him in place was knowing Yoko. To have _him_ of all people rush out, the white knight, and save her from a crowd? She'd loathe that. To Yoko that would only be 80% less terrible than what the crowd might have done.

That left throwing his empty can against a pack of rocks to spook them, and starting to call the police. He only hesitated over the final 9 when one of the brutes started talking about hearing a wolf, which everyone present had to know was complete nonsense.

Only when he heard one person leave one way, and five pairs of steps running the opposite way, did the wolf creep out of the trees. He didn't want to stalk Yoko even just to make sure she was safe, not after something like this -- so he had to be satisfied with believing in the flash of red hair he thought he saw running down below.

After this, Yoko acted unchanged (aside from her sudden proposition _s_ of him, of course) but he couldn't help distrusting her usual listless, uncaring disposition. That morning must have been frightening. She may be blaming herself for the fact it happened, as if it were her fault those boys couldn't even wait.

He didn't know what to do for her, and he couldn't let on that he knew, that he'd been the source of the noise. At this point he couldn't guess if she'd be angry he didn't do more when he saw the scene, angry he'd known and didn't tell her this sooner, or, as he first feared, angry that her subordinate saved her from an ugly situation outside of their work. Or even less that, and more that he'd witnessed her at one of her most vulnerable times. Perhaps even just angry that he would ever bring it up. The safest bet was some form of anger.

* * *

He would feel better if Hana at least knew that something was troubling Yoko, and was thinking on a way to help her through it. But to find that out, he'd have to avoid implying that his worries were specific rather than general. His cousin was a quick, walking encyclopedia; to ask in "secret", he has to be casually vague.

"Hana, does Yoko seem... even moodier than usual?"

"I think so."

"Do you have any idea why?"

Staring through what was in front of her, she was quiet. Might herself be deciding how much she can let on to him.

It would kill Yoko to know it, but all her Squad knew about the rude things some trainees were gossiping about. Without speaking, the three made a pact to not discuss it. Even Rokuro hadn't seemed to bring it up with her privately, or she would have come in pre-angered at him at least once.

Without speaking, the squadmates knew that for some things, nothing they said would make a real difference. Their captain could do as she pleased - or, more to the point, their captain would always do as she pleased, and not much would dissuade her. They had all accepted this just by coming to know her.

In the spirit of this evasion, Hana spoke in vague terms, even though the matter at hand was crystal clear in the circumstantial details.

"Something happened recently she hasn't told me about. I won't ask her exactly what, but I suspect it has something to do with the trainees that were dismissed recently."

"Oh, that happened?"

"Yes. I believe it was bad enough that the Memory Eraser was used."

 _So she at least mentioned it to somebody._ A small relief. At least Yoko wasn't completely holding it inside. 

"Do you think-- Should we try to talk to her about it?"

"She told me she didn't know what I was talking about when I tried."

"Oh." Not even to Hana? That's how much she wanted to ignore it....

"So, no, I don't think so. If she wants to act like nothing's happened, confronting her won't do any good." 

Hana sipped her tea and acknowledged her cousin's continued fretting.

"She'll handle it in her own way, Yuta. And if she feels she needs our help, that's when she'll come to us. We'll just have to trust in that for now."

 _But the problem is she's already coming to _me_ , and I don't know what to do about it...._ That's what he wanted to say, but Yoko certainly wouldn't want _anyone_ to know about that.

So he was still on his own here, and talking to Hana only made him feel a stronger sense of urgency about what Yoko was doing by bringing him into the abandoned building. There are at least a few people who can successfully deal with things like this by viewing it as the immutable past and moving on -- but Yoko, unlike her best friend, didn't seem to be one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my... my memory made Hiuta a lot less homely. Perhaps because of his agreeable personality. In those terms, or rather the way he acts, he's actually pretty interesting in an understated way. It's hard to notice since Katori and Wakamura's bickering is a pretty big show-stealer.


	3. Chapter 3

In the end with all things said, Katori didn't regret anything she'd done with Hiuta, even if she well knew it was just a response to what had _almost_ happened. This way, nobody could take anything real from her, she had thrown it away. She had bestowed it on someone who for some reason seemed to love her unconditionally and want nothing more than to make her happy. A tragic kind of loser, but a hell of a lot preferable a recipient than a bunch of randoms who only want ass.

That said....

"Mom? Do we have any wire hangers?"

"I don't think so."

"All's we got are wood and plastic," her brother confirmed.

"I see. Thanks."

"Why do you ask, sweetie?"

"School project. I'm gonna go ask around, might be a while."

Katori left the house as casually as ever, but before actually leaving, she took a minute to breathe, to get steady.

_Okay. Perfect excuse to be gone a while from the house._

_...Although I could have just said I was going._

Any sixteen-year-old who at this point doesn't grasp that sex can lead to the threat of a baby is practically a hopeless case, or from a seriously repressed home. It was more like at the time, she kind of didn't give a fuck. It would just be one more thing to feel shitty about, and she had felt so much of that lately. The vague concept only ranked about second at the most.

She might also have vaguely hoped, or assumed, that using a Trion body later would somehow terminate any potential disaster by itself. But why would that be? All it did was stuff your real body into... wherever the hell it put it. It's not like it cured you of things like colds or chronic sicknesses.

She should have told him to wear _his_ \- but it wouldn't have meant the same thing if it wasn't a real penis, made out of flesh and blood and potential disasters.

Later had come the cash-purchased-under-Trion-disguise tests. She took them into bathrooms outside her house or work to use them. Two a day every three, way before she missed her period, but only after a week and a half. Paranoia took that long to set in.

Of course, it's not paranoia if the tests start to consistently come up positive.

Going to do something about it? Surprisingly easy. Almost scary-easy.

 _Why_ would anybody willingly bring another person into _this world_ , if they could help it? Something live and fragile that's gonna die no matter what you do, and sometimes starkly before you're ready. Something that without question is going to suffer someday. It was almost an act of cruelty.

Sometimes she wanted to ask Hana, "How on Earth do you _do_ it?" Live. Get out of bed in the morning, function without breaking down screaming. She thought that if she'd lost Mom or Dad or her brother, or, hell, if she'd lost Hana, she'd have fallen apart for at least a year and a half. And that would be just over _one_ loss.

To "do something about it" required more research. After making sure no one was on her tail she continued the walk with her Trion body, it being naturally faster and still not resembling her at the time; left it on to enter the internet cafe and glance over her shoulder in the screen near-constantly while looking up "plan b" and doctors in the area "who don't ask questions". According to some forum a roving guy with an actual license specialized in desperate teens on the side, and oh look, he happened to be the next city over, in short train trip distance.

Maybe she should just ask somebody who didn't like her to punch her really hard in the gut.

With their own Trion body.... No, that would probably just kill her.

Katori jogged to the train station after getting out of sight of the cafe, always taking looks behind herself. Due to the nature of his business, he could handle drop-ins and didn't always have a convenient phone line.

Once she departed in unfamiliar territory came the hard part: tucking her Trigger somewhere it was somewhat plausible but also wouldn't be found and get her into real, unmaskable shit. First she found the doc's address, then a likely spot nearby in an alley's cracked wall just next to a sushi place's dumpster and back door. Hoped that in Hasunobe, no one was very likely to recognize her, and doubled back to the squat, small little house, too small for anybody but a single person.

Boldly, as if she had a mundane reason to be there, she walked to the porch and used the fake gold knocker. The full bangs filled the nearby air.

Then she calmly waited. And calmly waited. She was wondering if there were eyes upon her but couldn't turn to find any, lest her appointment be too memorable.

_*Knock Knock Knock*_

Her impatience got rewarded with the rattle of the doorknob.

Inside the door was this secret miracle off-hours doctor. She'd been half expecting a Fu Manchu, but no, no mustache, just a guy maybe seven years younger than her dad at most.

 _"You're not supposed to come through the front door,"_ he hissed, keeping his face neutral. _"Act like you're a cousin."_

Katori had a better, though not incompatible, idea. His eyes dropped to a crinkle from her pocket. She had the paper from writing down his address, tucked there just in case when she took her Trigger off; this she handed over as if she'd been sent there and the paper explained why. Kind of that was true....

He could no doubt see that was all she wrote, but took it anyway, and nodded after an appropriate pause.

The doc's place was sterile and barely personable, which she guessed fit with frequent moves. Just potted plants, books, and a few effects that could've been heirlooms. The back room he took her to was even more stark and medical, with a sink, instruments big and small, and... jars.

He didn't even ask how old she was, though that was probably obvious. She hoped. His quiz was simple:

"I need to know how far along."

"A month and a half."

"Are you sure?"

"I think I would know, old man."

His green eyes regarded her.

"You shouldn't be rude to a person who's about to operate on you," he said like he was used to being snapped at when he asked these questions, "but I'll forgive it because I know you're under pressure. Any preexisting medical conditions?"

"No."

Now the fairytale Wonderland fog was lifting, and the whole thing was starting to feel real. The doc washed his hands and gloved up, but when he saw where she was still standing, he hesitated at her hesitation.

"Did you change your mind?"

"Definitely not." There was no other choice, except hope for random miscarriage. "I just- want to ask something."

"Go ahead." He sounded professionally patient and naturally calm, the kind of pediatrician who could make patients relax.

"Why do you..." Her hand wandered the air, encompassing all its metal contents. "I mean, you could lose your license." She could understand if this was his only source of income, or if he was getting something else out of the work, but fourteen different anonymous girls hadn't lied about their relief to go to an actual doctor.

His voice was so neutral that she couldn't tell if she was completely conjuring that mildly judgmental tint. Though just the answer alone was a judgement, wasn't it?

"I think it's better that girls who are too young to be good mothers wait until they're ready. And I know that instructing them not to have sex until then will only go so far."

"Now," he told her before she left out the front door, having come through the front, to retrace her path: "try not to need to come back to me again. The fewer repeat customers, the better. Understand?"

She handed over 15000 yen for his trouble.

* * *

The doc didn't really need to warn her. Everything about the procedure - or maybe more the circumstances than the thing itself - was eerie enough she'll do everything possible to avoid going back.

He tried to make her feel at ease, but explaining what he was going to do to help her brace herself made it worse, and the gentle pressure with the sound of a vacuum made it worse - and the heaviness from the local anesthetic, and the bite of getting _that_ , and the knowledge that having to get all this done was genuinely something she'd had means to avoid and chose not to use them.

She asked about the jars, or rather blurted her question while waiting for her ability to walk to catch back up, and learned their purpose was that some of his customers wanted to give the things a "proper burial". That was almost worse than what she'd been thinking.

She had a cup of herbal tea the doctor let her pick, which did seem to help but felt like yet another mistake -- she couldn't taste the stuff yet it buzzed strong in her nose, and she already knew that every time she smelled Chai from now on, it would put her right back in this room. And then at last she rode the train back into Mikado, alone, thinking of her Trion body and how staying in it would just delay the inevitable.

Now that it all was done, for the first few hundred people she passed, she had the sense that somehow they just knew. That they could see it on her, that she was radiating a tell. She had gotten some shallow adoration and she was ready to face some real scorn. In a way she eagerly awaited the mean gossip. People calling her damaged goods, ruined, "Bitch" out loud, maybe even "baby killer" if they were serious Christians. Even though if there was one thing Katori remembered relating to this, it was that this close to conception the thing was definitely just a growing mass of cells without anything like a brain or its own nervous system. Absolutely not a baby.

But eventually she had to accept she'd expertly kept the whole thing in secret. No one seemed to have followed her, and nobody seemed to just detect where she'd gone. Nobody made it obvious they ever suspected anything. From like, dislike, surrogate big-brotherhood to disapproving silence, everybody acted towards her the exact same way as yesterday, and the day before that.

_Why is it that no matter what I do, nothing changes?_

There'd been quite a few changes. After going to Sawamura about the whole thing, she'd quit throwing herself at trainees almost as fast as she'd started -- a change which everyone had again failed to say a word about, as if they hadn't heard any rumors. Even before that, she was making herself change, actually forcing herself to go through with the unpleasantness of change as much as it took to acquire diligence; actually seriously going to the trouble to train and specialize. That was bearing some fruit, this thing she'd never really needed before.

But inside of her she still felt that little agony at living, the one that had made her start taking advantage of the "Trion bodies can't have real sex" loophole in the first place.

It wasn't anything in the ballpark of "being suicidal". This feeling was a lot less actionable than that. She felt a pressure, and she felt a foreboding, which were co-morbid, and neither of them anything she understood or knew what to do with.

None of the things that were supposed to make her feel better - or actually doing something to make her feel better - were doing a damn thing about _that_.

The fear was building she might never be able to cure it because the culprit might lie outside herself, beyond the touch of self-improvement. It was a dual pronged thing. The crush of defeat, and the dawning that after a point, she wasn't as naturally good as she thought she was.

Katori was used to being the Best in Show, and with time and effort her and Hana's squad might become that again. But there'll always be the people in front of them, because that was how it worked. It didn't even stop with Border. Some giant wave of monstrous military force a thousand times more destructive than the first Invasion or a typhoon could decide that this city shouldn't belong to the people who live there or whose country it was, and the moment they did, that would be the end of it. The _Second_ Large-Scale Invasion had proved that.

And more personally, she had an example of the universe randomly deciding to punish you.

Katori hadn't even joined Border with her childhood friend because waking up with her own house collapsed on her had been that scarring, or made her paranoid for the lives of those around her. At the time, four years ago, after it happened with her getting away unharmed, it still felt like one big game; something distant that couldn't really touch her. So maybe it wasn't random, just that she hadn't learned any lessons the first time around.

So sorry to have fallen asleep in class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say I'm sorry for that fake-out at the beginning of the chapter, but I'm really, really not.


	4. Chapter 4

In her demands, Yoko was as fickle as ever.

"You better not expect anything out of this," she had snarled, deciding to leave early after the fifth time. "I'm not settling for you."

He didn't expect her to. It would be plenty just to be near her and help her out, as usual, but he really doubted any of this was helping. Because of that gnawing feeling, he'd dared to use this as a chance to understand her true motives.

"What _do_ you want, then?"

Partway out the door she stopped, leaning on her arm against its jamb, as if the question made her realize she'd never once considered it. She was caught so off-guard, the answer seemed genuine. Although she clearly didn't intend it, a fissure cracked into her voice midway through the first word.

"I don't know what I want."

Even if she hadn't growled this in so many words, he could be sure it wasn't himself, not really. Just by casual observation he could see Yoko had a type: handsome men. He probably won't ever be one of them, unless he miraculously grew out of his plain, blunt features to become suave and head-turning in his own right (unlikely). She knew what she wanted that much.

Then, this being the case, _why_ did Yoko proposition him? There must be a reason, a purpose in choosing him, even if it wasn't the one he might've liked most to hear.

He must be something that the random trainees couldn't offer her, no matter how good they looked. And what could that be? Probably something stable and gentle, something that knew and was interested in _her_ , as a person. Nothing told him that, though, save process of elimination.

Maybe she just wanted something new and different.

Just the fact she'd brought him aboard and now it seemed exclusive did not fill him with joy, even by proxy. These weren't the conditions he'd ever wanted to make love to her. But when she grabbed his collar and more or less told him it wasn't about what he wanted, he quickly knew he had to cave. If he didn't hand over what she asked for, she'd just go somewhere else to find her comfort.

And he could remind himself of that truth all night long, but it didn't wash away his guilt. It couldn't be any less selfish than any other of her "suitors"... his thinking it at least better he, than somebody who only cared about her body.

* * *

Since they first began personal excursions into the Forbidden Zone, it had been a while, way too long, and things hadn't changed. Except that she'd developed some of the aggression he'd wanted, and, of course, that turned out not to be a good thing.

"Harder."

He simply couldn't do it. Too many hurdles. One, that as the absolute biggest thing, he did _not_ want to hurt her. Not mentally, not emotionally, and even if she asked him, not physically. And part of him suspected this wasn't so much something she wanted as a form of punishing herself.

The sheer unhappiness of the situation and this line of thought made him go limp.

Her disgust was like an instant knife in his chest. "Never mind. Get off me."

It was a relief to be freed from the job, something he never thought he'd ever think. But again, these were not the ideal circumstances. Yoko sat up and he expected her to leave again, but she stayed. A meter away, legs also off the bed. Not dressed.

She let air loose from her lungs and seemed agitated.

"Yoko." He couldn't keep silent and passive any longer. The cycle had to come to an end, and maybe now was the time. "Maybe this... isn't helping you."

"No shit."

He wrung his hands a bit, as unsure of this as ever. It was easier to speak up to her in a group, and, he was noticing, with his cousin's iron fist resting gently nearby. He often stood between Yoko and Rokura, but only Hana could ultimately stop them from killing each other. She also knew Yoko better than Yuta ever could, and would know if this nudging was really the right way to go about helping her.

By now, he couldn't help but ignore his cousin's advice. Just at least extend the offer, even if Yoko will probably say no. 

"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you? Just if you want to."

"Talk, huh."

She's a small young woman who doesn't come up to his shoulders, but it's easy to forget that. When her temper came through -- whether it simmered or exploded -- she matched him in height, that or he shrunk. He could _feel_ his terrible mistake in the gravity of whatever she planned to say.

"Okay, I can talk. A couple of weeks ago, I had to go get a little operation."

He could count back in his head and find the exact date very easily. Yoko had claimed she was having menstrual cramps. He'd accepted that without question, even though it seemed a little early and she'd never seemed to have them before. Not to the point it made her scrunch and slightly limp.

But, would invasive surgery have such a fast recovery? "An... operation?"

"Why do you have to ask? It's half your fault."

"Um--"

"You get it now? How do you feel about _that_?"

It did kind of hit him in the chest. Just as she said, it was half his fault: He'd noticed the risk the first time, yet did so little, taking her ovulation lie at face value just like she'd wanted. He'd thought, a lot of things could go "wrong" that stop a pregnancy before it's even noticed. Then pushed it out of his head and hoped for the best.

Selfish, see? "Hoping for the best" when the matter at hand was a little blend of Yoko and him he hadn't been letting himself think about.

But if she expected, or wanted, him to be angry with her, he couldn't do that. Either of them, actually having a baby? Now? Neither had been planning for or expecting one. At best, they'd have to wedge that child in between Border and Neighbors _on top_ of school.

Their families would be willing to help, probably, sure, but... it had to be faced: at this point in time, and possibly later, Yoko just wasn't going to be a good mother. At best the duty would fall to Hana. Or to himself. But he wouldn't want his own kid not to have a mom in its life if that could be helped. The actual, living, genuine article who gave birth.

That was why he had tried to keep his feelings at bay and leave everything about the outcome up to her. No matter how much he might like the thought of a family with Yoko, when you considered hard reality, it was one of the more sensible choices she'd made.

"--"

"Damnit! Don't just answer with the nice, political thing!"

He shut his mouth, even though nothing had come out. Nobody was saying anything political. Nobody on the team wanted her to feel terrible all the time, or regret existing.

The trouble was that their captain would always do what she wanted.

"I want to hear you tell me I'm a terrible human being already!"

"No."

She had him by the collar again, her bright green eyes burning into him. And he wouldn't budge, even for her.

"You're not bad. Just... hurting."

Her grasp opened. She lowered her hand, letting the tension out of her legs.

"Listen, Yoko. It's half my fault, right? I'm the one who put you in that position." _If you're a terrible human being, then I am too._ Only he couldn't say that directly: it would have the wrong effect, being too close to conceding to her self-loathing.

That she wasn't grabbing onto this fact even though she'd pointed it out first -- wasn't throwing all the blame into his court where he was ready to take it, if that would help -- meant something. Whether Something was good or bad, he couldn't tell.

In the meantime he'd thought of more things to say. "Your life doesn't have to be over. I know it's a lot to carry around alone, but this is just one thing. There's more to you than things that you've had thrown onto you."

"Like what."

"Well, like Border! Border always needs talented fighters like you. You're important."

Just hearing about Border seemed to make her stare go distant and shoulders wince in his grasp like she'd tasted medicine. He'd said the wrong thing. 

"...You're just saying all that." The emptiness in her voice, lack of anger or sarcasm, _really_ made him worry.

 _Try to think! What would Hana say to her?_ But his cousin could be a bit inscrutable and unpredictable herself. He didn't always know what she was thinking, just that she could be counted on. He was still on his own.

"Not at all. Don't you think there's a reason you survived the Large-Scale Invasion?"

"Yeah, there's reasons. Just not good ones."

"Don't say that. Everything worked itself out so you'd still be here. You've had lots of second chances. As long as you're still alive, you'll get as many as you need."

But at this point, he was more or less throwing things against the wall to see what sticks, and she could probably sense that....

Eventually, though, she did look up.

"You really don't hate me, huh."

"Why would I hate you?"

"Well.... Never mind."

Yoko slumped back across the mattress, looking -- at least -- slightly less dead than just before. He weighed, as he replaced his boxers around his waist, whether he should continue now or on the walk back. It _was_ about time to coax her out of trying to use sex as an ineffective panacea for her problems, but not just yet. First he had to work out in his head how not to make it sound like talking down to her.

"Wait a minute, where are you going?" She looked pointedly at his boxers and the pants now in his hands.

"...Home?"

"We're not done yet. Take that back off."

"But...." _What can I do to talk you out of this stuff? Neither one of us is really enjoying it._ She seemed to pick up on at least the first part of that thought and answered it.

"Listen. Don't you think I dragged you here because I wanted to fuck? Are you going to make me go home with all that heavy shit and nothing to show for it?"

His speech wasn't even halfway ready, so there wasn't much he could answer with. He tried one of the other questions that'd been bothering him instead.

"Don't you at least want to be in charge of things?" Not only was that what he'd been dreaming about, he could trust it better: that by definition she wouldn't be putting up with something after all, thinking she didn't care or that it didn't make a difference.

"I don't feel like that now. You're a guy, do your job."

 _But... My job, huh? What _is_ my job?_ A bit of an idea had wandered through his head, and he grabbed its tip before it could run away: pulled it closer, hand over hand. He knew what job she had in mind, but the one he wanted to do for her was different. And now, after all his fretting and overthinking, the tension between those two was just beginning to resolve.

This -- Yoko's sex-seeking -- was both about her and not about her at all. Being at the center of a group, she was the locus of attention, but no one was _really_ worshiping her. She had to be aware on some level that all that heavy desire they... slung over her... was still shallow. Nothing to do with what they had to offer her, what pleasure and fulfillment _they_ could give _her_ ; it was all about what her body did for their penises.

So, thinking about that orthogonally, Yoko was trying to fill a hole inside herself by rubbing away what's _around_ the hole. Right? Make it about what the boys, in any number, want to do and she can stop thinking about herself, her emptiness, for that brief time.

Yuta didn't really think himself equipped to know what exactly she was trying to find in this beyond loose guesses; he could be terribly wrong about her frame of mind. But he _could_ at least give her something that random guys were at best unlikely to.

He started by putting on his pants.

"Hey--"

"I'm not going anywhere. You want me to do what I want with you, right?"

"Yeah, but...." Her hesitation had hesitation, as if it didn't know which way to go.

"Just be patient."

"Fine...."

Now he rejoined her, hand following her hip. All he had in mind was the same thing as usual. Except this time, it would be undeniably one-sided.

"Aren't you going to-"

"Nope." He wasn't going to spend another second treating her like a sleeve.

"But what about-"

"Shh, quiet. Does it feel good or not?"

She gave him a brief odd look as if there was something new in his face. There might have been. He hadn't expected how smoothly that would come out.

It took her longer than normal to loosen back up, respot the bed. But he could tell when she crossed from tense to relaxed. If nothing else, he was getting good at reading her emotions. Writhing over the sheets, she was vulnerable, and suspicious, suspicious because she was vulnerable, vulnerable because she wasn't sure what he planned to do with her. It wasn't the obvious, so it was new, unstraightforward territory, a total mystery. He could see her fear that she might come away from this bed somehow feeling worse.

"You want me to leave?"

"No! I didn't say that! I never said that!"

"All right." He kissed her on that spot near her collarbone, and the brush of his lips pressed out a gentle sigh.

He'd gotten good enough at reading her body to know when she was starting to slip into that other existential plane that's _real_ arousal, as opposed to "just enough" arousal to wring out an end. The first time he got her there and everything was so clearly different, she came away snarling, defenses raised. It had all happened quickly and been the first she clawed and writhed and shoved against him, took over in the way he thought she'd want to in the first place. She probably hadn't expected it herself.

This wasn't just close to that time: it was better. He could tell it by her bucking against his hand, arms and leg clinging, nails caught in his shirt. When her breath sped up he traced her thigh instead until she forced herself to still, kept her aflame with those hidden sweet spots all over her skin -- answered her "C'mon, c'mon, now!"s with "In a minute, in a minute." This, he wanted to make last for as long as possible.

Being honest, he can't say he wasn't tempted to give her what she thought she wanted -- what she thought had to also happen -- to shed his clothes again, curl into her warmth and ride the tsunami with her, right at her side. But that would defeat the whole point. He could deal with his own desires later on his own, like usual.

Now, for the first time as far as this went, it must actually be all about _her_.

He knew the time had come when through the fire, her arm at her forehead, Yoko's edge surfaced:

"Ughhhhh... Yuta, you jerk! I can't take this.... Shit, you want me to beg or something?!"

"No; I want you to enjoy yourself."

"Then let -- me -- enjoy myself!"

"All right."

And at that point, it merely took a twist inside her and a brush on the out like striking a match--

"hhh _HH_ h! Oh God!"

Her swearing echoed all through that empty space; barked between gasps as if she'd run a marathon in a matter of seconds. Even when the shudder seemed to ebb it only came right back, pressing her into the mattress, being the keystone in her back, sliding the heavy growls into words:

"Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!"

And all of this was his doing, down to the length, as he pressed it out a little longer, and a little bit longer, so nervous his world was narrowed to his surgical hands and the pulse of his patient, trying his best to keep it alive as long as he could. It left her glacially, and once it was done she flattened out more limply than usual, sprawled over the body-soaked sheet -- slowly began to breathe as if in sleep. Yuta stood, fingers drenched. Somehow all that had worn _him_ out as well.

Of course, she'd never called his name before today, not once: not even by almost-reflex while tumbling over the edge. He'd been starting to think that kind of thing was only a myth, like simultaneous orgasms.

He draped the sheet and comforter over her beautiful rest, sat on the side of the bed in case she did fall asleep, or didn't want to be simply left alone. This was where he went wrong the last time, he thought: by getting too cozy with her when her guard was too far down. She needed to know he wasn't trying to sneak a ring on her finger or an invisible collar around her neck.

Yoko didn't ask him to go, or wind up in a hurry to leave by herself. She _seemed_ somewhat more at peace, laying there, staring across the room, probably thinking. A few times, he did think she fell asleep, but then her eyes half-opened again. Still she was quiet and unmoving. He didn't try to talk until she breathed a sigh.

"Yoko."

"What."

"Are you worried that people won't like you if you don't live up to... to something?"

Her green eyes held him in a slightly new way, like he wasn't an adversary or a toy or a thing of convenience, but maybe something she could talk to. At least, he thought. "I don't know. Maybe."

Maybe not. But: "If you're having trouble, you can always at least come to us. Tell us anything you need to get off your- well, that you need to say. We don't hate you, and we won't... In fact, we're all part of your squad because we care about you."

"It's not even my squad," she said, withdrawing ever slightly, rolling over. "It's Hana's. Everything was her idea."

"Still. You're our star."

Her face crumpled a little... but she didn't cry, not even quietly.

"So it doesn't matter what happens. We all love you."

She wiped her eyes on the sheet, then finally started the motions of getting out of the bed. Dressed in silence, slowly, without self-consciousness, but as woodenly as ever. For a moment, he half expected to hear something like "I wish you'd stop."

He wasn't sure if he'd gone too far the wrong direction; this reaction was too new. It could be numbness, could be disgust. Whatever it was, she had trouble saying it without a breath.

But when she did, her voice didn't break this time.

"Thank you."


End file.
